


Simple

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Guilt, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Slash, Trauma, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For two sworn enemies to have sex, you'd think there would be some grand back story behind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shizuo

For two sworn enemies to have sex, Shizuo thinks, you think there would be some grand back story behind it.

Some slow burn over the years. A little staring during high school, a little rutting in a fight. But there had been none of that, none of what happens in bad mangas and on the internet. They hated each other. They got off on the thought of taking each other out, and that alone.

It therefore made no sense that he’d simply gone to Izaya’s new apartment one night and taken the initiative.

Of course, he’s missing the part where they don’t have any contact for over two years. The part where Shizuo nearly killed him.

 _After_ he _nearly killed_ me, Shizuo amends, and it doesn’t make him feel much better.

Now the interviewers are gone, his own head continues to question him, and it won’t take _no comment_ for an answer.

How was that fight different from all the others?

_It was different because Izaya meant to kill me. He meant it that night, he wanted to finish me off. I was still in shock when I did what I did._

Why was it different? Didn’t Izaya leave you for dead once after a truck hit you?

_I could see it in his face. And he didn’t leave me when I was hit by that truck, he stayed there laughing at me until I could get up again and chase him out of there._

He stayed with you?

He can't answer this.

He’s also missing the part where he's wracked with guilt. 

The twins' sobbing faces.

Shinra’s private sighs to Celty that it was a shame, that Izaya wasn’t likely to be more than a vegetable even if he did survive.

Simon quieter than usual, shaking his head.

 _It's not my fault,_ Shizuo thinks over and over, but it means nothing.

Then he finds out from the interviewer that Izaya’s alive; he’s not a vegetable, he’s even working. But he is traumatised, he’s a cripple, and he’s not coming back.

It doesn’t make sleep any easier.

He thinks of how Izaya used to lure him into everything, made it his life’s work to bring Shizuo down, but he can't even get angry anymore.

It should be a good thing, forgiveness, as that's surely what he's feeling, if he's not angry. But forgiveness should mean closure and ease, it should mean eight hours sleep and going out again.

Instead, he stares at the details he’s probably paid too much for. He’ll be short on the rent for a piece of paper he'll never use. Probably.

Izaya’s alive, so it’s not too late.

Too late for what? For finally listening to Shinra and holding out an olive branch? They are 27 now. It's a frighteningly adult figure. But what good would it do? They have nothing in common. Izaya has apparently accepted defeat and is staying out of Ikebukuro. If he is really living in a penthouse like his address indicates, perhaps his injuries had been exaggerated by the interviewer. Perhaps he can walk, even run a little.

Shizuo has no reason to ever see him again.

But, in the morning, he makes his excuses to Tom and spends the last of his cash on the first train to Kanto.

* * *

 The relief's as sweeping and sweet as his cigarettes. Izaya’s not in a wheelchair. He’s not even on crutches. There’s not a mark on him, and he answers the door with no obvious difficulty. He's showered; he smells clean, not of his usual stinking colgone. He looks more himself than ever.

His eyes widen in shock. They narrow again as he tries to shut the door, but Shizuo gets his foot in the way. He’s come this far, he’s not going to be shut out like a dog.

Izaya’s mouth curls in disdain. He lets the door out just enough for Shizuo to kiss him.

Shizuo hadn’t planned this. He has never known how to talk to Izaya, and now there is no anger, there is nothing else left, just the relief and the adrenalin and the lack of sleep that’s driving him.

Izaya’s hands are on his chest, one token resistance, but then those hands stop pushing and pull him in instead, slide into his hair. He kicks the door shut behind them and no, Izaya is definitely not a cripple.

They are half dressed by the time they make it to Izaya’s bed, barely able to finish each other’s names, and whatever anyone believes, it really was as simple as that.  


	2. Izaya

Izaya’s in pain. Not only in his arms and legs, but his back and neck and his very bones are in protest.

His pills are on Shizuo’s side of the bed. Shizuo has an arm and leg draped around him, and his face in Izaya’s hair. He’s warm, naked, heavy, damp, pleasant. 

Not that Izaya could blame him for this. Izaya had chosen to be rough, hadn’t stopped it from going on as long as it had. His doctor had warned him to go easy with this kind of thing. Not to have random sex marathons with a protozoan beast.

What will he do if he can’t get up?

He'd rather die than ask Shizuo for help. Perhaps he can pretend to be asleep and Shizuo will just duck out.

Shizuo doesn’t seem the type for ducking out.

Then again, Shizuo doesn't seem the type for showing up in a city miles from home, to fuck someone he hates and hasn’t even seen for years. So unpredictable. Izaya does still love his humans. Even if Shizuo is technically not human.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t want Shizuo to see how bad he really is. He wants to push the wheelchair off his balcony. Lie prone in bed and let Shizuo think he’s just rude for not making him coffee, for not showing him out.

 _Calm down_ , Izaya hears his physiotherapist's voice in his head. _Do your exercises._

For once, she has a point. He’s able to flex and relax his muscles systematically, and feels a little better for it, more in control.

He just got a little carried away last night. Nothing to freak out about. Everything's fine.

“What are you doing?” Shizuo mumbles.

He freezes, thinks fast. “Cramp.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Shizuo shifts so less of his weight is on Izaya, curls around him instead. They're cuddling. They're conscious and not fucking and cuddling. That is actually happening.

Shizuo nuzzles him and asks to use the shower.

As soon as he’s gone, Izaya twists to his side of the bed and gets the pill bottle. He takes two, and feels instantly better. Surely just a placebo effect, but he’ll take what he can get.

He stands while Shizuo is showering. Moves cautiously. It makes him wince, but he can manage it. He changes the sheets, makes the bed, finds Shizuo’s clothes and dumps them on top. He drops his own clothes into the basket, finds boxers and a loose sweater to wear. He shoves his crutches under the bed as an afterthought, although he’s sure he’ll need them later, if not soon.

He makes coffee, gets out two cups. Finding he can still move has made him generous. He doesn’t make tea, though. He wants Shizuo awake and he wants him out.

When Shizuo joins him, awkward and fully dressed, his eyes drop down Izaya’s bare legs as if by instinct, and Izaya pretends not to notice. He couldn’t go back to bed even if he wanted to. He pushes coffee in Shizuo’s direction.

“Thanks.”

The silence, the awkwardness, descends like they’re strangers. Izaya doesn’t normally do silences, whatever the circumstances, but his left leg is screaming, and he’s afraid some strain may creep into his voice if he uses it, so he’s happy to let the silence sit. It might drive Shizuo out sooner.

“You’re better than I thought you would be.”

Izaya splutters with laughter, even though it makes him wince. Shizuo, clearly rewinding his little statement in his head and realising how it sounded, goes red.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Izaya chuckles.

“That’s not what I meant. I – “

“I know what you meant,” Izaya cuts him off. “I’m not being spoonfed and I’m walking around. Yay me.”

And last night had demonstrated that Izaya can do so much more than that if he put his mind to it. He's rather proud. He hopes Shizuo tells all of Ikebukuro this. Then he nearly laughs all over again, because of course Shizuo will not be telling anyone any of this.

“Why did you come?” Izaya asks him. it’s easier to talk now Shizuo has said the first stupid thing. He tries to ignore his leg.

Shizuo avoids his eyes. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and Izaya doesn’t help him out. He adds two spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee and finally takes a sip.

“You think you’ll ever visit Ikebukuro?”

Izaya’s eyes narrow. “Is that a joke or a threat?”

“Neither.” He seems to mean it. His eyes are steady, serious.

“I’m not going back,” Izaya says, with contempt.

“Even though your sisters are there?” He doesn’t mention that others have asked after him as well.

“My sisters come here when they want to see me.”

Shizuo puts down his cup. “Then can I come here again?”

Izaya stares at him. Shizuo’s not even blushing.

“To be honest, I don’t even want to leave.”

Izaya shakes his head. “You’re…” But he can’t finish because he doesn’t know what Shizuo is anymore.

“I’m not angry anymore,” Shizuo offers, like it helps. And it does actually, it makes Izaya realise what’s off about him. He’s not relaxed, but he’s not grinding his teeth or growling or breaking the cup with his fist. “Not as much, anyway.”

Izaya snorts. “Someone’s been drugging your coffee.”

“I mean it.” He pauses. Then it comes. “I only did what I did because of the way you pushed me. But I am sorry.”

Izaya doesn’t say anything. Losing is bad enough. Sorry makes it much worse. But Shizuo’s not done.

“I know I sort of started it when we first met,” he continues, and Izaya doesn’t argue with him. He’d started it every time since, so he supposed that made it even. “But I – what I’m trying to say is, I don’t care if you come back to Ikebukuro, so long as you don’t do any harm.”

Izaya snorts again. “I’m still an informant. Business is booming.” He means it. He has no intention of going back.

“Izaya,” he’s growling now, more like his old self. “I’m – I don’t know how to talk to you.”

“Well, no-one forced you to come here and talk to me.”

“No-one forced you to let me in, either.”

“Oh? I seem to remember your foot in the door.”

“And I took my own clothes off, did I?”

“Fuck you.”

Shizuo doesn’t rile. He just sits there drinking his coffee. Izaya doesn’t offer him breakfast.

“I felt better last night,” the protozoan says, like nothing's happened. “Didn’t you?”

Izaya says nothing.

“ __So can I come again?”


	3. Ikebukuro

Once a week sounds like a lot, but when you think about it, it really isn’t.

There are 52 weeks in a year. Out of all those days, all those hours, weekends are not much. So far, Shizuo has not missed one.

Shizuo always goes to Izaya’s place. Izaya refuses to even go near Ikebukuro. He pays half of Shizuo’s train fare, would pay it all if Shizuo let him. It’s a relief for Shizuo; all those trips were starting to press on his budget.

They still don’t talk, not really. Izaya is still not himself, but he never turns Shizuo away. He starts buying desserts and bigger cartons of milk for the fridge, turns his work phones off whenever Shizuo comes over.

Shizuo never sees him uses his crutches, let alone the chair, never sees him so much as wince, but he knows he has bad days from the way he is sometimes groggy from the pills.

“Just come back to Ikebukuro,” Shizuo urges him one night, in bed. He’s never been one to beat around the bush. “What are you afraid of if you’re not afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid,” Izaya snaps. “You’re just trying to goad me, to get me to go to prove I’m not afraid.”

“Yeah?” he says. “Seems to be working. You’re pissed.”

“I am not.”

Unbeknowst to Shizuo, since they had slipped into this routine, Izaya had started taking his physiotherapy seriously. He can’t stand the thought of Shizuo seeing him on a bad day, so he goes three times a week, does all the exercises, and it’s not as gruelling as he feared. Not all the time, anyway. He could survive a trip to Ikebukuro. Maybe. But, he doesn't want to let Shizuo know he wants this, even if the protozoan thinks he has Izaya all figured out.

“Come back for your birthday,” Shizuo says now, nuzzling him.

Shizuo remembers the date from when they’d been at school together. A spring birthday. It has never rained on Izaya’s birthday since Shizuo has known him.

 

Izaya is still funny about Ikebukuro. He goes quiet and tense whenever it comes up. He has a good poker face, and Shizuo still doesn’t know how to talk to him. He comes and goes every weekend wondering if it will be the last.

Should he get Izaya a birthday present? Were they ‘ _there_ ’ yet? He doesn’t even know what Izaya likes. Chocolate. Disgusting, bitter stuff that was practically solid caffeine. But wasn’t chocolate too romantic? Too easy?

He spends enough time thinking about what to get Izaya that he thinks they probably are ‘there,’ after all, whatever that even meant.

* * *

 Shizuo wouldn’t let it go. He brings it up again in the morning.

“Let’s get Russia Sushi.”

Izaya thinks about it. He knows he can go a long time, a long way, without crutches, but…it was _Ikebukuro_. Ikebukuro with Shizuo. 

On the other hand, it would do him good to catch up with Simon, to get his sisters off his back. Not to mention that fatty tuna. He can’t hang on to his pride forever.

He leans into Shizuo casually. “How many people have you told about this, then?”

Shizuo reddens. Of course, he hasn’t thought that far ahead.

“Just Celty…and by extension Shinra. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.”

Izaya had been thinking of talking to Shinra or Celty himself, someone who knows Shizuo better and might be able to give him some insight into what the hell was going on. Because if he didn’t know any better, despite their history and their inability to confront it, he’d say they were developing some kind of _relationship_.

“OK, sushi,” Izaya decides out loud. “Next Saturday, not my birthday. Invite Shinra and Celty. My sisters can stop by in their lunch too.”

That would be quite enough to deal with in one day. His therapist will be thrilled.

* * *

“Izaya!!”

The Russian lifts Izaya into a giant hug. Several people stop to stare. Izaya is laughing and hugging him back.

They chat happily in Russian after Simon puts him down, and the Russian glances at Shizuo once or twice with wide eyes. Shizuo wonders what Izaya is telling him. Then Izaya seems to remember he is there and switches back to Japanese.

“Come on, let’s get in and have a conversation, before my sisters- “

“Nii-chan!! Ni-chan, _Ni-chan_!!”

Izaya groans.

Between the two of them, the twins hug Izaya even harder than Simon. Izaya avoids Shizuo’s eyes as it happens, who finds he has to laugh. It is impossibly cute. If Izaya still worked here, he’d lose all credibility just like that. Simon laughs with him, and drags them all inside.

“Come, I get the afternoon off, for Izaya’s big return.”

“It’s not a big return,” Izaya protests over his sisters’ heads. “I’m just visiting.”

He sits beside Shizuo with his head on one hand while they yak away at him, not giving him much time to respond. They tell him about school, their parents, their kitten, the new sweet bread place, the latest coffee house. Shizuo is struggling to remember their names, let alone which one is which.

 “I know,” Izaya keeps saying. “I saw Mom last week. I’ve been in Kanto, not on the moon.”

Shinra and Celty show up while they are still yammering.

“Please don’t hug me,” Izaya says, and they hug him just to piss him off.

Izaya’s sisters go back to school, and they finally order their food.

Shizuo pretends to be listening to Simon and Celty, but really half listens to Shinra and Izaya bickering at his side.

 “Tell me who your physio is,” the doctor begs. He’s pressing Izaya’s wrist bones were they’ve been set, like a little kid with his first operation kit, and Izaya is letting him with bemused eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be mobile for years!”

“You didn’t think I’d be mobile at all,” Izaya laughs at him, and changes the subject. He is half sarcastic, and he loosens the more he talks. Shizuo is feeling more like a fly on the wall, but he quite likes it. He likes this less infuriating side of Izaya.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Shinra pouts, not for the first time. “I’ve been trying to get in touch for months. You changed all your numbers.”

“I had to get out,” he shrugs, completely ignoring Shizuo at his side. 

Izaya straightens then, and Shizuo follows his gaze to the window. Namie Yagiri. She comes in and right up to their table, eyebrows raised. The table falls quiet.

“You could have said you’d be in town. Jerk.”

Then she gives him a hug.

He retorts with what sounds like an insult, hugging her back.

“Call me, moron.” She punches Izaya lightly on the arm and leaves.

Izaya shoots Shizuo an almost imperceptible glance – _it’s not like that_ – and Shizuo believes him, he understands. Seeing Izaya reminisce with Shinra, chat animatedly in Russian with Simon, tease Celty until she flicks wasabi at him, Shizuo will believe anything. The flea is a human being, and not such a terrible one after all.

Celty flashes her phone at him discreetly.

_-OK?_

He supposes he’d been pretty quiet. He nods. He still feels a million miles away from Izaya sometimes, but he feels that gap closing every day. Well, every week. Hopefully one day it will be more than once a week. He feels good.

Simon hugs Izaya when they leave.

“Don’t be stranger now.”

Izaya laughs and says something in Russian.

Shinra and Celty tell him to not stay away. He gives them his new number and address.

They go back to Shizuo’s place, and Izaya falls on the couch, circling an ankle and rubbing his arm. He’d winced slightly when his sisters jumped on him.

Shizuo is watching him. “I didn’t know you still saw a physiotherapist.”

“I thought you knew. It’s not like I keep the wheelchair around as a fashion accessory. That’s who always calls.”

“You’d tell me if I got too rou – “

“Yes,” he says impatiently. “And you don’t. It probably does me good.”

Shizuo nods, not wanting to start a fight. “So you coming back for your birthday?”

“Might,” he shrugs. He seems tired. But he’s relaxed. Shizuo suspects he’s relieved to have got through the day without…whatever he’d been afraid of.

He’s half asleep by the time Shizuo brings him a beer, and Shizuo's content to curl around his back without disturbing him. He texts Tom and asks for the week off. They have to start somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Appreciate any and all comments :D


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